The Other Girl
by L.D. Eddy
Summary: Vivienne Alexa Tate: The Other Girl. Hair as black as a raven's feathers, skin as pale as snow, eyes as blue as cornflowers,and filled with a hatred of the Cullen family. Will anything she has to say or do affect Bella's decisions in life or will she be written off as an annoyance? Please Review!


Vivienne Alexa Tate: Anna Koshmal

* * *

Vivienne Alexa Tate sighed as she answered her phone.  
"Tate speaking," She said, cradling it between her shoulder and her ear. She continued to fold the laundry she had been doing before the phone had rung.  
"Viv?" A voice asked. Vivienne smiled.  
"Daddy, you don't have to keep checking up on me," She said. "I'm a grown woman."  
"I need your help." Vivienne stopped doing what she was doing.  
"What do you need?" She asked. "Cold medicine? Blood? A kidney? Don't worry, I'm on my way," She said. She threw down her clothing and grabbed her coat and purse before slipping on her shoes.  
"No, Viv, don-"  
"Daddy, if you're in trouble, I'm coming home," Vivienne said. She could hear her father sigh as she made her way out of her apartment building and towards the street, ready to flag down a taxi.  
"You remember how I told you you had a sister...a half sister?" Charlie asked.  
"Yeah. Why?" Vivienne asked.  
"She's...she's gone into a depression...look, I was just wondering if you wanted to meet her, maybe you could help? I jus- I just don't want what happened to your-"  
"To mom to happen to her, I got it. I'll grab a taxi, alright?"  
"Only if you have your pepper spray and gun," Charlie said.  
"I never leave home without them. They're in my purse. Don't worry, I'll be there soon."

* * *

As the driver pulled up to the house, I sighed. It was the same it had been the first day I had met my father.  
_"Are you sure you want to do this?" I heard my grandfather ask me. I scoffed on the inside but otherwise didn't react._  
_"He's the only parent I have left. Of course I want to meet him," I said. I could practically feel his glare boring into the back of my head._  
_My grandfather disliked me - not for who I was, but for what I was._  
_I was the daughter of a seventeen year old girl and a nineteen year old boy. They weren't married and my mother never planned on marrying him. She didn't believe in marriage because of her mother and fathers marriage - my grandmother Bette was trapped in a loveless marriage with a despicable man._  
_I was the reason my mother died - well, in a way I was._  
_After my mother had me, we were whisked away from Forks, Washington and moved to Los Angeles. She was never allowed to see anyone and even into her adult life, her parents controlled her because of her itty bitty 'mistake'. Me._  
_They had brainwashed her into thinking she was a filthy little sinner - their words, not mine - and that she should burn in hell for her sins. They then tried to brainwash me into believing that I was a filthy sin, not good enough to be the scum and dirt they walked upon everyday._  
_One day, when she was thirty or so, she decided to end it all. End the torment of her loveless parents and to bring closer 'the day of which all her sins lay bare, where she would be judged and punished and thrown to hell with all of the other sinners and fornicaters'. These were the words I found in her journal, clutched in her lifeless hand as her open, glassy, dead eyes stared up at me from the floor._  
_I imagine she spent months after she decided she wanted to end her 'miserable existence' researching the best ways to kill herself. The most painful ways, the painless ways, the quickest ways, ways in which it would take longest to kill her._  
_Alexandra Ann Tate died on my birthday because she was brainwashed into believing she should be burning in hell for what she did._  
_The last thing she wrote in her journal was 'Happy Birthday, Vivienne.' It was like she knew I was going to be the one to find her. Like she knew I wuld read her journal. Like she knew I would want to know what she was think when she ended it all._  
_It's a shame she didn't know that she was a 'filthy sin' also. Her parents had premarital sex and when they found out, there was a shotgun wedding._  
_With an actual shotgun._  
_My great-grandfather, Horace Owens, had pointed a shotgun at my grandfather Michael Tate's back when they had their wedding._  
_I found this extremely ironic when I first heard it - well, I didn't actually hear it to begin with. I was looking through old newspaper clippings at the library when we had moved from Los Angeles to my grandmother and grandfather's hometown in the South after my mother had commit suicide. I found the article about their wedding._  
_And not too long after that, I began caring what the gossips in town had to say about my family._  
_And boy, did they dish it._  
_I heard fantastical stories about their wedding day and the early days of their relationship ranging from not too far off to fairytale quality._  
_"Then stop daydreaming, girl, and walk up to the damned door," Michael said. I nodded and began walking._  
_I raised my hand to knock at the door and found it shaking. Odd, because I hadn't been nervous about this. Perhaps my brain thought it best to put on a show._  
_After I knocked, I heard a man yell "I'll be right there!" before coming to the door._  
_When he finally opened the door, I could see the confusion written on his face._  
_"Can I help you?" He asked. I nodded._  
_"Hello. My name is Vivienne Tate," I said. He nodded, his brows furrowed. He looked out towards the car and when he saw who was there - my grandfather and grandmother - the dots began to connect. His eyes began to water up and he pulled me into a hug - something I later began to understand was very out of character for him._  
_"I can't believe you're here," He managed to whisper. I nodded and wrapped my arms around his larger frame._  
"I can't believe I'm back here," I said to myself. I paid the cabby before walking up to the house. Before I could, however, my father got out of his cruiser and quietly waved me over to it before getting back in.  
I slipped into the passenger's seat and he began to talk.  
"She's home right now, but I'd like to talk to you first, alright?" He asked. I nodded and smiled.  
"Yes, daddy," I said. It didn't matter to me that he hadn't been in my life for the first thirteen years of it; that had been out of his control, he wasn't to blame - he would always be my daddy. He started the cruiser and we drove in companionable silence to Cora's Diner.  
Call me silly, but I had always hoped that he would start talking with Cora one day, realise how much they love each other, and get together.  
"Vivienne, sweetie, how are you?" Cora asked when we walked into the diner. I flashed her my award winning smile - dad called it my 1000 watt smile - it was dad's favorite.  
"I'm great, Cora," I said.  
Cora's diner had been a staple in our diet when I lived with Charlie before I went to college at Washington U - this was because neither Charlie nor I had very much luck in the kitchen. I actually managed to burn down some of the kitchen, causing dad to have to rebuild. You couldn't really tell it had been rebuilt, other than the fact that sometimes you could smell the faint scent of smoke and sawdust.  
We both ordered burgers - regular burgers, not veggie burgers - and coffee - pickles, mustard and ketchup, and for the love of God, Cora, don't let milk or sugar get anywhere near our cups of coffee or you'll have an Independence Day-like war going on in your diner, so help us God - with a dessert of blueberry cobbler.  
I then finally uttered the words to shatter the awkward silence. "So, tell me about Isabella."  
He took a bite from his burger and chewed it slowly before answering me.  
"Last fall, she got into a...romantic relationship," I balked at the word relationship. When I was Bella's age, I knew I wasn't ready to have any sort of 'romantic relationship' with anyone because I simply wasn't mature enough and neither were the boys I went to school with. "With a young man named Edward Cullen."  
"His name makes him sound stuck-up," I commented. I managed to wrestle a weak grin from my father before he continued.  
"She believed she was so in love with this boy that when his father was offered a better, higher paying job in Los Angeles, she went into a depression. She's been like this for three months."  
"Three months?" I asked. In my mind I was painting this boy out to be an asshole, any fathers enemy. "Was he a good kid?"  
"Yeah. Good grades, good family, rich, and according to most of the women-folk around here, attractive." My image of the Great Asshole crumbled.  
"Wow...I might be able to help her but I'm not sure. Three months is a long time. I'm guessing your last resorts are either therapy or-?"  
"Sending her to her mother, taking her away from an environment that reminds her of him." I nodded.  
"Alright. When can I meet her?" I asked.  
"When we get home. I've set up the guestroom for you," He said. I nodded and we finished our meal, gave Cora a healthy tip, and went on our merry way.

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A/N: Tell me what you think. Review please!


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